They were on a diamond with the greatest collection of baseball talent ever assembled during an emotional pregame ceremony that touched all the right buttons.

They came here to celebrate a game and to say goodbye to a cathedral of a stadium. See them as you wish. Maybe you don't care that many of them are slow and frail and somehow smaller.

Maybe you still see Brooks Robinson diving to his right to spear a ground ball and make one of those laser throws across the diamond. Maybe you still see Hank Aaron turning on a fastball with that quick, compact swing.

Maybe you still see Willie Mays making one of those impossible catches. Maybe Ozzie Smith is still making the extraordinary seem easy.

Baseball does this kind of thing better than any other sport. Baseball knows how to honor its past, how to touch our hearts and remind us why we love this timeless sport.

The Yankees honored Bob Sheppard, their public-address announcer for the past 47 years. He was ill and unable to work, but he's as much a part of Yankees tradition as pinstripes and monuments, and the club didn't want him to be forgotten.

They honored Bobby Murcer, who died over the weekend, and they honored a stadium that has a magic about it.

They had their fun, too. Jeter and Berra got the loudest cheers. Every Boston player was booed.

Just when it seems the All-Star Game has lost its luster, a night like this comes along when we interrupt a summer of complaining about our local teams to remember why this game has such a hold on many of us.

The All-Star Game has lost some of its luster. There's no arguing that, and having it settle home-field advantage in the World Series has changed nothing.

Once upon a time, this game was unique. Back then, we were lucky to get one game a week on television and seeing American Leaguers and National Leaguers in the same game was special.

No more.

We get dozens of games a week on television, and interleague play has broken down most of the wall that once existed between the leagues.

These days, the All-Star Game is nothing more than a chance to see the best players in one place at one time.

Touching generations

This night was even better than that.

It was about A-Rod and Jeter, but it was also about Willie and Hank.

It was about all those generations of fathers and sons who cheered, screamed, second-guessed and loved a game.

Bud Selig remembered how he was brought to Yankee Stadium by his mother on his 15th birthday, in 1949.

"They brought out a big birthday cake and I'm thinking that my mother has embarrassed me in front of all these people," he said. "Turns out, it was Casey Stengel's birthday they were celebrating, not mine."

Selig stopped for the requisite laugh from a group of sportswriters.

"That day started a long trail of memories," he said. "There's no place like it."